


Where’s backup (but more importantly, where are you)

by Mycelle



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Spies & Secret Agents, no beta we die like renfri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycelle/pseuds/Mycelle
Summary: Geralt finds himself in a less-than-ideal situation after a mission gone wrong. He can only hope for backup...except when it comes, it’s not what he expected.“What are you doing here? I thought you said you were bringing backup!”“Iamthe backup, you ungrateful brute!”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 201





	Where’s backup (but more importantly, where are you)

**Author's Note:**

> My first Geraskier fic and it's a secret agent AU! I was deeply inspired by [these pieces of art](https://soosdraws.tumblr.com/post/616475126085648384/secret-agents-au-jaskier-works-behind-the) by @soosdraws on Tumblr! Please go check them out, they're amazing!

Geralt had messed up. Badly. 

“Fuck.”

His arm presses against the bullet wound on his side while his other hand still holds his empty gun. He grits his teeth, trying to focus on the sound of bullets ricocheting off the metal table he had taken refuge behind instead of the pulsing pain and warm blood oozing down his side. 

It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out mission, not this fuck of a mess he’s found himself in, because of  _ course  _ there were more guards the one day there weren’t supposed to so many, of  _ course  _ they had somehow prepared for a spy infiltration. It was just his damn luck that the one time he decided not to bring knockout gas was the one day he really needed it, or else he wouldn’t be in this fucking mess right now. 

_ “Geralt! Geralt, are you still there?”  _

A familiar voice crackles in his ear, pitched high with worry and panic. Geralt sets his jaw for a different reason and brought a shaky hand to his comm. 

_ Stop worrying about me,  _ he wants to say,  _ I hate the way your voice shakes when you do.  _

“Where’s backup,” he growls instead. 

_ “It’s—it’s coming, Geralt, I swear,”  _ Jaskier sounds like he’s breathless, which strikes the secret agent as odd, but he has more important things to care about so he brushes the thought aside,  _ “just—just stay alive, okay? Dying is not part of your contract.”  _

Geralt snorts despite himself.  _ As if I stay on this job just because of the contract.  _ “Where the hell is my backup then.” 

It’s just as his words finish leaving his mouth does he hear it—a silenced gun. It shot two quiet bullets, and suddenly the rounds rifting into his cover stop. 

He holds his breath, stamping down the mental  _ fucking finally  _ as he doesn’t know whether his rescuer is a friend or a foe. He knows he’s being snippy with backup, but he also realizes that, as a secret agent, backup doesn’t come easily. Even with Jaskier’s smoothtalking, it would take a miracle for the agency to send anyone so fast.

He tenses behind the table, hand readying his gun (he knows it’s still empty, but it’s reflex at this point). He waits, breath held, heartbeat thumping harder and louder in his chest as the footsteps approach him—

“ _ There _ you are, Geralt! Do you know how long it took to find you?” A voice starts to, starts to  _ reprimand _ him. 

Geralt...blinks. He knows that voice, but it’s not in his comm this time. 

“Jaskier.” Despite the pain it causes, he wrenches his body around to face the direction of the voice and—there stands Jaskier, waving a silencer pistol around like it was a toy as he rambles on like normal. 

“Honestly, I know I’m supposed to know your location with the GPS in your tracker and all but I’m  _ pretty _ sure I told you they’d cut off certain electric signals, which, honestly, was such a  _ pain _ to work around, do you know how much of a—?”

_ “Jaskier,” _ Geralt growls, because  _ what the fuck _ . “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were bringing backup!” If he was here, then the guards could have shot him, could  _ still _ shoot and kill him, if there are more coming, and there probably will be. Jaskier wasn’t used to being out in the field, always seemingly preferring to boss and chatter in Geralt’s head and guide him while he does the actual mission. Geralt used to be annoyed by it, but now he couldn’t help but prefer it that way. Jaskier wasn’t in danger in a van tucked away from the mission location. He was also, he begrudgingly admits, really good at his job—better than any  partner handler Geralt had ever had, though he’d rather die than ever admit that aloud. 

He was in danger right now, though, especially with Geralt at a disadvantage like this. 

Jaskier, oblivious to the danger apparently, scoffed. “I  _ am _ the backup, you ungrateful brute!” he snapped, offended. “I’ll have you know that despite what it looks like, I  _ did  _ also go through some train—oh my god you are bleeding something  _ fierce _ .”

Geralt looked down to his side, where a considerable amount of blood seemed to have accumulated. “Seems so,” he grunts. 

The worry and panic set back on Jaskier’s face. Geralt looks away and focuses on his wound instead. That was much easier than having to face the way Jaskier’s blue eyes hovered over him. 

“Alright, okay.” Jaskier walks over and, with a surprising amount of gentleness, lifts Geralt up and slings his arm over his shoulder for support. It catches him off guard, having Jaskier’s body press so close to him, and he almost stumbles, but Jaskier catches the both of them and huffs. 

“Honestly Geralt, one bullet and you’ve already forgotten how to walk?” Jaskier teases, though his eyes are set on their path as they start to walk towards the exit. 

Geralt glares at him. “You’re not the one with the bullet in him.”

Jaskier’s eyes flicker over to him at that, filled with guilt. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs with such softness it catches Geralt completely off guard. He seems to take his silence as something other than stunned and continues, “I should have known there were more guards than usual. If I had paid extra attention to all the floors then this wouldn’t have happened…”

Geralt feels his heart lurch. Jaskier was taking all the blame, and that didn’t sit right with him in the slightest bit. 

_ It’s not your fault _ , he wants to say,  _ I should have known too. I shouldn’t have been so careless and gotten shot.  _

“What about the other guards?” he says instead, because that’s also on his mind. Technically, they aren’t out of the woods; Jaskier had killed the four guards shooting at him, but he knew there were at least seven more somewhere. He didn’t care much if he didn’t escape, but Jaskier was different. He couldn’t stomach the very thought of Jaskier dying because of him. 

“Dead,” Jaskier says simply, eyes hardening once more as their escape takes focus. “Killed then on my way.”

Geralt shouldn’t be surprised by that news—of course a secret agent should be able to deal with trouble when needed—but he still can’t help but be...shocked, relieved but shocked. He had known that Jaskier didn’t always take the job of a handler, knew that Dandelion was a name whispered but never spoken about among—not his agency, but the others. 

He wants to ask. Why is he his handler if he is so much more capable? Why stay by his side?  Would he continue to stay by his side if he asked him to?

“Hmm,” is all that leaves his lips. It earns him a slight breath of a laugh, which is something Geralt is willing to take instead. 

“ _ Seriously _ , Geralt? You really should be thanking me,” Jaskier huffs, “It wasn’t easy securing an escape route, you know! I had to hack into the security system, bypass all of their firewall— _ five _ of them, okay—and then I had to go suit up and you know how much I hate these black vests—“

Geralt lets out his own huff of a laugh and shakes his head. He leans against Jaskier, feeling slightly lightheaded. “Thanks, Jask,” he mumbles. 

“And see how you—wait what?” Geralt’s sure Jaskier is gaping at him in shock, but he’s too busy trying to focus on putting one foot over the other to realize why. “Geralt, did you just _thank_ me?” Jaskier asks, voice incredulous. Geralt decides he likes that tone on him better than he does when it’s colored with worry or panic. “Oh you—I _know_ you did! Melitele, when we get out of here I am _not_ letting you live that down, and don’t you dare think you can get away with this—blood-loss loopy or otherwise! And yes, you _will_ be fine, I can tell the wound isn’t fatal, so—“ 

Geralt vaguely wonders how Jaskier can tell that so easily, but he lets that question drift off, just as he lets Jaskier’s incessant voice fade into mindless chatter as it does sometimes when Geralt either feels like he’s being too much (more than usual) or when he’s safe. It’s the latter this time, because despite it all, he knows his partner has his back, will keep the both of them safe (he slightly scented the air and can tell that Jaskier is true to his word—the halls smell of spilled blood). So he lets himself drift into a meditative state, full of trust in Jaskier to take them both to safety. 

When he comes out of it, it’s to Jaskier beaming down at him as Eskel (who probably came right from the agency) tends to his wounds.

“So, about you thanking me…” Jaskier’s blue eyes glint with delight, mischief,  and something Geralt can’t describe. He obviously hasn’t forgotten and has been waiting to go on a rant the second he woke up. 

Geralt groans, and not from the pain on his side. He desperately wishes the medic would just knock him out so he wouldn’t have to hear him. 

And yet, when Eskel politely asks if he wants to be knocked out as Jaskier starts to babble on, Geralt quietly grunts out a no. He doesn’t say why. 

If Eskel gives him a knowing look, Geralt can only glare at him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Come yell at me and give requests at [my tumblr (mycelle-hell)](https://mycelle-hell.tumblr.com) if you'd like!


End file.
